Six Words
by Ennee Gray
Summary: David has a six word worth epiphany that won't leave him. Pre-slash


**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Jumper, characters or anything else associated.  
**A/N:** Not a songfic, though I was inspired by a song. Considering I've been wanting to sleep for the past 4 hours, helluva inspiration really helped in writing this. Feel free to point out any mistakes ;)

* * *

Nothing more than a whisper in the air. A plea carried by the north wind in Japan.

„_What do you want from me?"_

His lips are dry, but his eyes are wet. Nobody hears his call in the desert.

„_What do you want from me?"_

His eyes are red and his throat feels schorched, but he still screams hoping that somehow, someway the sound will carry far enough for Griffin to hear.

„_What do you want from me?"_

He's not seeking absolution or forgivness. He still thinks he had no other option. He still believes that he did the right thing. But as the fairy tales go – _once upon a time_ they were a team _and more_ and now... All he needs is an ending. It doesn't even have to be a happy one. This doesn't have to be a Disney story – this can be a gory medieval tale, just as long as it ends, because David can't stand this anymore.

He knows it's not actually Griffin that's haunting him. It's his own mind playing tricks on him. After all Griffin is smart – he would never seek out someone who nearly killed him, unless it's a Paladin, because they're just wrong. Griffin would never risk his life with David, because someone has to keep killing the bad guys.

David knows he wasn't welcome the first time he showed up on Griffin's doorstep and he knows he's not going to be welcome _ever_ at all, but with all that he knows... Maybe he's a little bit insane. Trying the same thing all over again expecting a different result – waiting for a welcome.

He's a little bit desperate, a little bit in love, slightly insane and he's jumping all over the world asking the wrong question again and again.

Every story has an ending and theirs just _feels_ unfinished. David has always listened to this feeling in his gut for better or for worse. So he drops everything and sometimes goes days without a sunrise, but in every corner of the world his voice echoes.

„_What do you want from me?"_

He's not pretending to be unselfish. It's still all about him. He needs an ending. He wants a welcome. He is the one who just can't let go. Why won't Griffin answer?

The first time the words tumbled over his lips it was unintentional. He hadn't been thinking of anything at all, just enjoying a burger and sunshine for breakfast with his girlfriend, but in between sips of Coke – the question just formed and he knew. He knew who he was asking and he knew why he was asking.

He left Millie in the library of their hometown. He abandoned the idea of re-connecting with his mother. _He dropped everything_.

Being sorry never got anyone very far and David's quite certain he's not sorry anyway. Asking doesn't work with Griffin, neither does pleading nor begging. David knows – he tried all of those before when they had met for the first time. Blackmail worked once, but he can't even find Griffin this time so now - he demands.

Everybody wants something. Griffin wants something, David is sure of that. All he has to do is get an answer.

„_What do you want from me?"_

An end to beginning. A welcome. Just an answer. Call it what you will, but David has to have it. So would Griffin, please, just remove his fucking earplugs and answer?

Days melt into weeks and David's not really sure if he remembers what exactly is it that he wants, all he knows for sure are these six words burning on his tongue. He isn't certain how long he can keep this up, because there's only so long one can put their life on hold. He knows that sooner or later something will catch him – either a Paladin or pure exhaustion, maybe both. Nobody can run forever, not he, not Griffin. He just hopes that he'll catch Griffin, before something catches him, because dying with an unfinished cause is a bitch.

Sometimes he thinks that getting an answer about the Great Beyond before getting an answer from Griffin would be exactly what he deserves. Then he hopes that he won't die by drowning.

Sometimes he thinks that maybe it's not Griffin. Maybe it's him. Maybe he should be sorry. Maybe he should feel guilty. Maybe he needs to ask after all, because demanding hasn't gotten him very far, but that's just not him. It's not a matter of _won't or can't_. It's not a matter at all.

He's not the asking type so he's demanding. And Griffin... Who the hell knows what type is Griffin, because he's not answering. Griffin is silent and David can't decide whether he's getting desperate or angry.

„_What do you want from me?"_

There's no end in sight. The sky is endless. The flat land and high grass end at the horizon which has never seemed further away. David lies on his back and fights the need to sleep, but the lazy caress of the afternoon sun if far stronger than his will. Six words that are more familiar to him than his own name roll over his lips before he succumbs to the utter exhaustion he has lived in for the past few months.

„_What do you want from me?"_


End file.
